Common Vice
by shoutintotheoblivion
Summary: There were things that were infinitely more pleasurable than cigarettes and firewhiskey.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

**Better Than Cigarettes**

"_A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?" _– Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

* * *

It was a cold November evening, Saturday, when it first happened.

She had snuck up to the AstronomyTower after Marlene had finally stopped giggling about Thomas MacMillian, sixth year Hufflepuff prefect, complimenting her new haircut. Lily thought she should have been flattered as well, since she was the one that originally cut Marlene's hair—and it _did _look fantastic, she had to admit—but there was a limited amount of time one could spend talking about Thomas MacMillian and two hours had been more than enough. Thanking Merlin and God (and many other great witches and wizards and deities) Lily rolled across her bed and searched her drawer for her small purse. Upon finding it she quietly departed from the dormitory hoping she wouldn't encounter anyone in the common room. Luck was on her side for the room was, indeed, empty despite it being only a little after midnight on a Saturday night. Thanking all of her lucky stars the redhead quickly tiptoed to the entrance, left the Gryffindor Common Room and ignored the Fat Lady's comment (something about it being past curfew? She didn't care enough to listen anyway). Getting to the Tower usually didn't take long but there were always people—prefects and/or professors—patrolling the hallways after the curfew and Lily didn't much fancy being caught breaking school rules and regularions. Therefore once she finally reached her destination it was almost 1 o'clock. Breathing heavily she checked if she was truly alone—Merlin knows how many times she had walked in on various couples (and some people's boyfriends and girlfriends with people who _most definitely_ were _not_ their boyfriend or girlfriend)—before leaning against a wall and sliding to the floor. She allowed herself a few moments to catch her breath—she had ran up to the top of the tower, afraid that she might have spotted Mrs. Norris at the very base of the tower—before reaching for the small purse and rummaging through it. Her fingers felt against the cool metal of her tweezers, then they fell upon the lip balm she always carried in it and a small bottle of perfume. Groaning she roamed her fingers around the inside of her purse until she finally came in contact with a pack of Players' cigarettes and, after searching a bit more, a lighter. With a sigh of relief she pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between her lips. Bringing the lighter to the tip of it she tried lighting the cigarette once, then twice, and then finally the third time before realizing that her lighter was of no use any longer which elicited a small groan from her lips.

_Just her luck._ The one night in the whole week when she was able to sneak out on her own and her lighter decided that its time to become a faulty-no-use lighter had finally arrived. _Ruddy, faulty, of-absolutely-no-use-lighter_. Without a second thought she chucked it back in the purse, her temper slowly rising. If there was one thing that Lily Evans absolutely abhorred it was using magic to light a cigarette. The mere thought made her shudder and the actual deed took away everything that was alluring about smoking in the first place.

She needed a lighter. And she was looking forward to that silly cigarette—and maybe, just _maybe_, one more after it—but now she couldn't have it, and she really needed it, especially after having to listen about a certain sixth year Hufflepuff and his gorgeous blue eyes which, Lily though, weren't that gorgeous at all. Leaning her head against the cool wall she almost missed the silent footsteps coming nearer and nearer. Her ears perked up and she stood up, shoving the Players' back in the small purse, holding her wand in her right hand as she moved backwards to hide from the entrance to the tower. As the footsteps grew louder—although they were still very quiet, and she had to compliment the person's sneaking skills—her heart beat faster and she could feel her palms sweating. Whoever it was that was climbing towards the Tower should have been near and she flinched when the familiar click sounded and the door opened, her eyes glued to the darkness behind them. For a few moments she stared at the emptiness there and then the door closed. The fear she had felt minutes ago had been replaced by utter terror as she could still hear the silent shuffling of somebody's feet in the tower. Her eyes moved frantically around as she pressed her back to the wall pointing her wand blindly in different directions. She decided against calling out for the person—or whatever _it_ was—to show themselves—or _it_self—realizing that her voice would most likely crack. It seemed like eons had passed since she had been sitting on the very floor of the Astronomy Tower ready to smoke her cig and walk back to her dormitory, and Lily Evans regretted ever deciding to leave the Gryffindor Tower at all. Despite being a talented witch and a Gryffindor at that—and Gryffindors were _brave_, she was _supposed_ to be _brave_—Lily was, after all, just a 14 year old girl who found herself trapped with an invisible entity at one o'clock in the morning at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Suddenly she could hear herself taking quick, short breaths very fast as everything else fell silent and then the footsteps sounded again, this time loud and clear, and—Lily realized in horror—approaching her much too quickly for her liking. Forgetting about the curfew and not being caught, she was ready to scream for help when a hand appeared and clamped over her mouth. She raised her eyebrows, eyes widening in shock, staring at the floating hand keeping her from screaming. And then the hand was joined by the rest of the body—which was quite conveniently attached to the hand attached to her face—and in front of Lily Evans stood James Potter, his hand still pressing against her lips and a small grin on his face.

Her stomach dropped, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. _Of all the people…_

"Hullo, Evans, fancy seeing you here," he whispered, a smirk on his lips. "Are you okay? You won't scream?"

With her eyes still narrowed she took in his face—which might have been a few inches too close to hers—and rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand?" James played dumb. "Does rolling your eyes mean 'yes, James, I'll scream' or 'no, James, I won't'… or does it mean something completely else screaming related? So, let me repeat: you won't scream, right?"

This time around Lily nodded vigorously, James' hand moving along before he removed it, giving her a chance to speak, "What are you doing here?"

"No need to be hostile…. And I'm here for a smoke," he shrugged nonchalantly and reached in his pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Lily nodded curtly, ready to open her mouth and let out a stream of witty remarks and a few classy insults when James' sentence registered in her brain. He was here for a smoke. _A smoke._ And there he was, standing with her—the owner of a faulty-of-no-use lighter—and ready to embark on some smoking. She bit her lower lip contemplating for a few moments before grinning sheepishly, "You don't happen to have a lighter on you, Potter?"

"A lighter?"

She rolled her eyes, "Yes. Yes, a lighter. That funny little thing you use to light a cigarette."

"What'd you need a lighter for, Evans? Setting the Tower on fire?" James chuckled, "I reckon it might ruin your chances of being a prefect."

"I was not going to set fire to—what do you even care if I become a prefect or not?" She challenged walking away from him towards the middle of the room.

James grinned at her and leaned against the wall, "I don't care, I really don't. But," he paused, placing a cigarette between his lips and, reaching his hand to retrieve a lighter from his pocket—which caused Lily to roll her eyes—and lighting the fag, "what I _am_ curious about is… what are _you_—of all the people I thought I might encounter—doing here? Of _all_ the places you could be, Evans." Smirking at her he continued, "And you actually should be in your bed. I don't suppose you're meeting someone?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Instead of responding she rolled her eyes at him before reaching in her purse and pulling out the half full pack of Players' taking a cig and holding her hand out expectantly, nodding her head in the direction of the lighter. The dark haired boy seemed baffled at first but his face quickly formed into a mask of mischief as he approached her and—instead of handing her his lighter—lit the cigarette for her.

* * *

It was an ordinary Sunday. One perfectly ordinary Sunday, month of May, 1977. Except, it wasn't ordinary at all and it wasn't a good day either. If one asked James Potter—or any other Gryffindor—it was a rotten, _rotten _day. That very morning the last Quidditch match had been played between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. It had lasted too long and it was exhausting for both sides. Gryffindor team had been in the lead from the very beginning of the match and by the end of the game they had been solid 140 points ahead of Ravenclaw. There was no doubt in anybody's mind that the victory belonged to Gryffindor; some Ravenclaws even felt defeated enough to leave the stands before the match had actually ended. However, in a curious turn of events the new Ravenclaw seeker—Ernest Johnson—brought his team victory by out flying the Gryffindor seeker and catching the golden snitch.

_The Bloody-Rotten-Sodding-Horrid-No-Good-Very-Sad-Excuse-Of-A-Snitch_, as Sirius Black called it afterwards. Thus Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup and, on top of that, had gained a great advantage in House championship which would likely gain them the House Cup as well.

It had been a horrible day and James Potter wanted to be someplace quiet and deserted, away from everyone. He _had to_ get away from the commotion. Perhaps he would have invited Sirius to come join him—because Remus was still away _'visiting his mother'_ (or was he supposed to be visiting his mother the next month and he merely had a flu now?) and Peter was trying to chat up a few third years—but Sirius had already disappeared and James didn't think his best mate wanted to be found yet. That's how he, James, found himself sneaking up the stairs to his dormitory and hiding underneath the Invisibility Cloak. He snuck out of the common room easily, and hurried off towards the AstronomyTower knowing that he would most likely have to scare off a few people. The thought made him feel slightly better.

He always found scaring snogging couples away from the AstronomyTower fun. The perk was that afterwards he had the tower to himself—or to himself and his rotten Sunday. On the particular evening James reached the tower sooner than he expected, encountering a pair of third year Gyrffindors at the base of it (he scared them off quickly, the small girl screaming as he whispered a simple 'boo' in her ear) and a pair of senior Slytherins at the very top—who probably shooed off the younger students—who had been going at it pretty intensely before he started whistling and taunting them around the tower. The lanky Slytherin boy yelled a few times for James to _"show his face"_ in a rather shaky voice, but James only chuckled before continuing with his agenda until the two had picked up their clothes and left in a haste. Once the tower was empty he took of the Cloak and locked the door chuckling to himself. It was somewhat humorous just how much ruining other people's fun lifted James Potter's spirits, his only regret being that there were no Ravenclaws to scare—or perhaps throw off the top of the tower.

Maybe he'd just push them from the edge.

Fly them towards the ground.

Shove them off a cliff—tower—whatever.

Taking a few steps he walked out on the small balcony overlooking the lake. The stone floor was warm enough to sit on and he placed the Map beside him after lighting his cigarette. The small dot with the scribbling Remus Lupin was still in the Hospital Wing—nothing unexpected-and the one that had Peter Pettigrew scribbled next to it was very close to Dolores Abbot's dot (which was located near a secluded corner of Gryffindor Common Room). James' eyes unconsciously roamed the entire map in search of Sirius' dot. However he was unable to spot him even after he checked all of the broom cupboards, which made him chuckle. Concluding that his best friend must have gone off to Hogsmeade, or had simply taken some bird (though, he was curious who it was) to the Come and Go Room, James ceased his search for Sirius Black's dot only to notice another especially intriguing dot. The dot adjoined to Lily Evans was quickly moving away from the GryffindorTower. There was a light feeling somewhere in his chest—hope maybe, James wasn't sure; it was a strange thing Lily and James had: the Astronomy Tower and cigarettes—and he followed her name as she moved through the corridors towards—he realized suddenly—the Astronomy Tower. Following her, he only tore his gaze away from the map when Lily Evans had finally reached the locked door at the top of the AstronomyTower and his ears heard her failed attempt to hastily open them. Grabbing the map, a cigarette between his lips, he got up and walked to the door unlocking them for her and meeting the back of her head.

"Oi, Evans," he whispered and she turned to face him—looking quite stunning in the dim moonlight barely hitting her face, James would later remember, "don't leave so soon."

A scowl formed on her face as she pushed past him, "Not you again."

"Fancy meeting you here once again. And what on Earth do you mean, Evans? Again? It's been a while, you know."

"I swear, Potter… just," she groaned, trying hard not to snap at him for she was not in the mood to be teased or tease, "I need a few minutes on my own, _please_."

"I'll keep quiet."

And James did keep quiet for as long as he could, which was approximately ten minutes but even that was impressive for a 16 year old boy. At first he started glancing towards her ever few seconds—which Lily noticed—and then he started sighing—most likely out of boredom—and after the sighs kicked in James started impatiently tapping his foot. All of that had done nothing to calm the redhead down and she was on the verge of hexing him when she remembered why she had sneaked away from the Gryffindor Common Room in the first place.

Cigarettes.

Hastily she started pulling out the contents of her purse until the small pile on the floor was joined by a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and a smile now graced Lily's lips. She was well aware of his burning gaze on her, but chose to ignore it simply lighting her cig. At first she refused to join him on the balcony once he decided to venture back outside, even though he had bribed her with the view of the lake and the clear night sky. Eventually thought she ended up lowering herself on the stone floor next to him just as he put the Map away in his pocket.

They didn't speak, but she did share her butterbeer with him.

It was a strange thing they had: the AstronomyTower and cigarettes, but what neither of the two was remotely ready to admit was that they liked it… in a strange sort of way, of course.

* * *

Summer had been very kind to Lily Evans.

That was the first thing Sirius told his friends upon spotting the red haired girl at the Platform 9 ¾ . James's neck craned and his eyes shifted quickly until they found the red locks (had she curled her hair?) framing an all too familiar face which was splayed with freckles. She was laughing at something Marlene McKinnon had said and James couldn't keep himself from staring for a short while. His eyes roamed her whole form; she _had_ grown a bit: her legs were definitely longer and her shirt did fit rather snugly, particularly around the chest area. Then there was the small purse hanging innocently off her shoulder. The small purse that was much bigger on the inside and most likely contained at least a pack of cigarettes at the very moment… maybe even some butterbeer, if she had felt like bringing some. Chuckling to himself he looked away and followed his friends who were already moving towards the train.

They had been two weeks into their 6th year when the Marauders decided to camp out in the courtyard during lunch time. Majority of the Hogwarts students had made the same decision, among them Lily Evans, her magical purse and her friends. It was Peter who first noticed them when the three girls had passed them and headed towards a tree not too far from theirs. Sirius observed them silently as Lily spread out the small blanket they had brought to sit on, and whistled lightly chuckling to himself before adding once again that summer had treated her nicely (indeed) and how she had grown to be one of the fittest girls around—with a silent implication that he was somewhat interested in this new objective. Of course James agreed (even though he wasn't positive he approved of Sirius' new implied mission). That didn't mean he had to voice his agreement and embarrass himself. The two nights of sharing cigarettes with the redhead, which he remembered to the tiniest detail, had remained a secret and he had no intentions on giving it away. For all he was concerned he would never admit that he didn't think her a shrew or a swot anymore; he thought she was just bloody brilliant, that's what he though. There was nothing wrong with being brilliant—he would know, for he was brilliant as well—and he couldn't hold that against the poor girl; especially not when she looked so gorgeous in the dim moonlight on a rotten Sunday evening with smoke leaving her lips quite enticingly. Oh, and her lips were a completely different story. He had never noticed it but they were the perfect size and the perfect shape—if such thing existed—and they fit her face just as perfectly. Some girls had full lips and, while they were not as full as Mary MacDonald's, Lily's lips were also full; exactly like a girl's lips should be, James thought, even though he would never dare call himself an expert on the fullness of girls' lips. And he had noticed how they were an ideal shade of pink and red mixed together, matching her hair impeccably. But while James could stare at her long legs (which truly seemed to go on for miles), and the curve of her hips, and the way she was tying her hair up in a ponytail (revealing her green eyes more), and he could watch her laugh and admire her whole being with a slight tug around the general area of his chest… well, James would never easily voice these thoughts because he was far too proud.

He would simply continue sitting under the tree, a hand in his pocket holding the newly opened pack of cigarettes.

He would continue pretending to listen to what Peter was talking about, even though he wasn't paying attention at all. He hadn't been paying attention ever since Peter had pointed out that the girls had arrived. After that he was much too occupied by other things; things infinitely more interesting than anything his friends might have been saying. James understood it was wrong to think that way, but he wasn't sure if anything might be better than Lily Evans' long legs completely outstretched and crossed at the ankles as she lay on her stomach on that red blanket she shared with her best friends.

Perhaps the story Peter was telling had truly been more interesting but James Potter would never know. His friend had continued the story that very evening, but James was not around to hear it. He had spontaneously decided to go for a walk outside of the castle. Not exactly sure what had made him do it in the first place, he strode across the school grounds towards the lake listening to the hushed sound of his own footsteps and toying with the lighter in his pocket. The Cloak of Invisiblity had been left behind in his dormitory, stashed away in the spare pillow case and locked in the hidden compartment of his trunk, but he had taken the Map with him, just to be safe. The lake was eerily still that evening and the air was humid but calm. It had been another indicator that the school year had only just begun – no one was worrying about exams or homework and the unusual serenity was still very thick in the air around the grounds. James loved those first few weeks of school – the slow beginning and retelling the summer adventures. He even loved those first homework assignments they got because most of the teachers always kept in mind that it was the very beginning of the school year, assigning easy homeworks.

The first weeks of school had always been a joy for James.

Sighing he lowered himself against the trunk of the huge willow observing its branches which were dipping into the lake, and lit a cigarette. He held the first drag in longer then necessary then let it out slowly and watched it dissolve in the humid air around him. Despite it being the middle of September the weather was inexplicably summer-like and James wasn't yet sure if he liked it or not. He would have pondered about it for a while longer had he not been interrupted by the sound of rocks being thrown into the still lake. A beat. A tug. A smile forming on his lips and his breath—merely a quarter of his breath, James would argue—getting caught. Because there she was, he could easily spot her from the shadow of the willow. A red haired girl in the dim moonlight disrupting the surface of the lake.

Taking the cigarette from his lips he stood up and walked towards her, a grin on his face. "Evening, Evans," she looked at him, lowering her arm and dropping the rock she was holding to the ground.

"Potter." Her face gave off her surprise, though her voice stayed indifferent.

"Are you throwing rocks?" He questioned taking a drag from his cigarette and gazing at the once again still surface of the lake.

Lily rolled her eyes at him and, with a shrug, replied, "Maybe."

"It seemed like you were."

"What does it matter if I was?" She turned to face him completely and noticed he was staring at the sky.

Blowing out the smoke into the air above them he lowered his head, "I s'ppose it doesn't. I reckoned you'd care for a smoke," he grinned, offering her his virtually empty pack of cigarettes.

"I'm not going to take your last fag, Potter" she shook her head, the red tresses moving with such an ease that James had to admire it for a split second, "I don't do that."

His laughter rang through the silent air, "You don't do that? Do what? Accept generous offers? Smoke? … Because I know you smoke."

"I won't take your last cig, it's… I just don't do it. I don't take other people's last cigs, that's it."

He frowned, "But I'm offering."

"Doesn't matter," she replied turning away from him after catching herself staring a split second too long at his lips as they parted to let smoke out; there were better things to stare at, the lake for instance, or the moon. She opted for the lake and she rummaged through her purse, successfully digging up a pack of her own Players'. Turning her face back towards him, but fully intent on not staring, she smirked, "do you reckon the Giant Squid is dead?"

"Excuse me?" James sputtered out just as he threw the cigarette bud to the ground.

"Is it dead?" Lily repeated, while pulling out a lighter from the purse. "Or is it asleep?"

The boy standing next to her chuckled, "Is that what you were doing? Waking the Squid? Bloody hell, Evans, has anyone told you're a bit mental?" She scoffed. "Why would anyone want to wake up the Giant Squid?"

She didn't respond right away, instead taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing a few smoke rings, "I was bored."

James nodded reaching for that last cigarette. As he held it between his lips he could hear her chuckle, "Aren't you glad I didn't take your last cigarette?"

* * *

_She's standing in the middle of her dormitory, the small purse in her hands, surrounded by the mess she had made minutes ago. Her hair is slightly dishevelled and she's breathing raggedly._

Lily could have sworn that she had one more pack left, that there was no need to make a discreet detour to buy another carton of cigarettes; she had it all planned out and was certain that the carton she had bought before arriving to Hogwarts that year would last her at least until Easter, if not the whole year. Yet, she had found herself cigarette-less in the middle of March with no opportune moment to apparate secretly and come back with another carton without being caught. Lily Evans wasn't even addicted to cigarettes, she just enjoyed having a smoke here and there, and there was nothing wrong with liking cigarettes—it did not mean she was addicted. Besides, it was a completely private thing, not even her best friends knew, or if they did they still pretended they didn't, for Lily's sake. Sure, she noticed how they would get suspicious every now and again, but she was firmly convinced that she had managed to keep it a secret.

A secret she loved, even though she had to share it with an unlikely _cigarette mate_ of hers. A faint smile formed on her lips as she thought of the few cigarette induced encounters they've shared, but then Lily realized it. It was as simple as that – James Potter was her unlikely cigarette mate _with a lighter_. He was her cigarette mate, Lily grinned, with a lighter _and_ cigarettes. And when one's cigarette mate is in trouble—such as having run out of their precious Players' unexpectedly—then one should feel obligated to help out their cigarette mate in any way possible. The only way to help out a cigarette mate who found themselves in such a pickle as Lily did was to provide them with a box of cigarettes.

It was the only noble and honourable thing to do, she concluded suddenly relieved. All she had to do now was find her wonderful, charming, brilliant cigarette mate.

She gave her dormitory a once over and realized that if she were to leave it in its current state it would undoubtedly raise questions. Suspicious, questioning dorm mates were not something Lily wanted to deal with, especially since she had other matters to tend to (matters such as the disturbing lack of cigarettes). With a flick of her wand she folded all of her shirts, stacking them one on top of the other on her bed. Then she levitated the books to her trunk and closed it. Glancing around the room she nodded satisfied at the way it looked and then rushed down the staircase. Upon bursting through the door and stumbling into the 6th year boys' dormitory she realized just a bit too late that James would most definitely not be alone when she came to him for help. In fact it was more likely that he would be with his friends—which he was, Lily realized. The four boys who were playing Exploding Snap prior to her grand entrance stared at her bewildered and she flushed glancing quickly at her _secret_—she reprimanded herself quietly when she remembered—cigarette mate before averting her gaze to Remus.

"Uh, hullo," she cleared her throat, "I just wanted to—it's silly really, you see—Remus, I can't seem to remember if we have the—uh—that prefect thing—uhm—"

James cut in, "Patrols?"

"Yes," she accepted his help, "… that. Do we have patrols tonight?"

Remus stared at her confused before replying, "Lily, we had them 6 days ago. Are you alright? Maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey and have her check if everything is fine—did you hit your head?"

"I'm _fine_, Remus, I promise." She assured her fellow prefect who suddenly seemed extremely concerned about her health. "I'll leave you to it, then." Lily mumbled out before awkwardly leaving the dormitory—after stealing a glance towards her cigarette mate—and all but stumbled down the stairs, then headed to her dormitory to grab a few books. She had reached the armchair in front of the fireplace quicker than ever before and took up doing her homework rather enthusiastically, all the while chewing her lip impatiently and hoping to catch James Potter alone and far away from his friends. As she found out later in the evening she needn't have worried at all. A small piece of crumpled parchment hit her just above her right eyebrow before falling on the Charms textbook she had been reading seconds ago, and rolling down to her lap. She picked it up, unsure of what it was, and was met with a messy handwriting.

_Meet me in the broom cupboard down the corridor in 15 minutes? – James._

At first her brain screamed a loud _'no'_ protesting against any inclination she might have had to meet James, while remembering the few times she had been asked out in similar ways before. But a stronger part of her brain was shouting out an extremely loud _'yes'_. It was the part that thought James Potter was aware of their cigarette mates bond—their cigarette camaraderie—and had understood her plea for help (or perhaps it was more of a desperate cry rather than a mere plea). That part of her brain rationalized the situation and sent a message to her hand to scribble down a neat _yes_ before charming the crumpled ball of parchment to hit James in his left ear. She watched him as he flinched, then searched for the parchment unsuccessfully before summoning it. She also noticed the way he smiled after reading her response, then looked up to see if she was watching before reaching in his pocket and showing her a tiny bit of the top of the cigarette pack before standing up and leaving the Gryffindor Tower. Lily let out a breath of relief and turned back to her Charms homework.

Completely annoyed, she found that there was no way she was going to be able to finish her essay now because: a) It was ten o'clock and she was _tired_; b) there was a cigarette with her name on it in the broom cupboard a few feet away from the portrait of Fat Lady; and c) it was due next week, anyway. Hastily she collected her books, corked her ink bottle and rushed to her dormitory to put them away. After a minute she was out of the Gryffindor Tower and heading towards the meeting place in a hurry when someone—and she was quite positive that she knew who it was—grabbed her waist, clamped a hand over her mouth and then threw something over her head.

"Invisibility cloak," he whispered in her ear and she almost shivered, _almost._ "Let's go outside, the AstronomyTower is apparently extremely busy tonight." Again, she nodded, blindly following his suggestions. They moved through the castle with ease, only making sure that they didn't make too much noise. Once they reached the oak door they had to wait for Filch to leave the Entrance Hall (which didn't take long in James' opinion, but Lily had been unyieldingly impatient) and then they snuck out. Lily insisted they kept the Cloak on until they were steps away from the willow rooted near the shore of the lake, despite James' reassurances that no one would see them in the dark even if they did remove it. He took hold of her wrist, pulled her in the shadows of the willow and all but sat her on one of the protruding roots before he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered Lily one before taking one himself.

"What's the story, Evans?"

"Huh?" She glanced at him, extending her arm to grab hold of the lighter he had just used. His hand retracted, putting the lighter out of her reach and he grinned.

"I asked you what's the story. I thought you _always_ had your cigs. I thought it was _wrong_ to take another person's cigs." James chuckled before leaning closer and lighting her cigarette with a smirk.

"An unexpected turn of events," Lily replied, observing the way that the tip of her cigarette lit up as she inhaled the smoke. "And it's only _wrong_ to take someone else's cig if it's the last one."

"Hmm," James mused, "I can accept that. What turn of events?"

"Miscalculation," she grinned at his frowning face, "I thought I had enough to cover the whole year, but I was wrong. Ended up smoking right through my secret stash," Lily elaborated with a small smile.

"Ah, and so you came to me."

"More or less." She confirmed—eyes roaming his form as he leaned against the trunk of the willow—bringing the cigarette back to her lips. "I figured that cigarette mates should help their cigarette mates, even if they are merely secret cigarette mates."

He stared at her with a confused look on his face before mumbling out, "We're mates?"

"_Cigarette_ mates," corrected Lily, "but I'm not that opposed to the prospect of mates concept anymore."

James held back a huge grin threatening to break out and instead winked at the redhead and offered her a very James Potter-like smirk. "Mates, then, Evans. Proper ones, too."

Lily nodded, "I suppose I could do worse than being mates with you, Potter. You are useful," she lifted her cigarette pointedly, "and you're not as dim-witted as I thought you were. After all, you did manage to decipher my mad prefect patrol inquiries."

"I'm brilliant, I know."

With her mouth half way open to respond with a witty retort, Lily realized that he actually had all the rights to claim his brilliance. She had been denying this for too long but James Potter truly was brilliant… in a very different, somewhat annoying and a very James Potter way.

* * *

It had been happening too often lately. Too often for her own liking and she was going to put an end to it. Even her friends were getting suspicious. And Lily thought she was losing her mind, she really did. It felt almost unnatural the way she blindly looked in his direction whenever she entered the Great Hall. It was annoying how she had to search every room to see if he was there (and that slight twinge of disappointment if he wasn't around wasn't any less irritating). Perhaps what bothered her most was the unnerving way that he seemed to be looking at her every single time she looked at _him_. Their eyes would meet and he'd smile, saying hello when she was close enough to hear, and she would smile in return. Everyone around them used to be rendered speechless by the exchanges between them, but their friends had gotten used to it by now. Or they had simply learned to ignore it.

The worst part was this nagging voice telling her that she _liked_ all of that. She _liked_ looking at him and she _liked_ when he would meet her eye because he must have been looking at her as well. She liked their late night cigarette meetings when they would talk about everything and anything; the ones where he admitted to her that he was fascinated with The Beatles and that Sirius thought he was being stupid; or the one where she ended up with her legs in his lap as he tried to reach for the butterbeer bottle she had hidden behind her back; or the time he first brought a radio up to the tower and they tried to tune into a muggle station, failing at it ever since.

And it was because she liked all of it that she had put an end to their late night cigarette mate rendezvous. Or at least she had attempted to do so. She had successfully made a fool of herself and simply told him they shouldn't meet every second evening, but rather tone it down to once a week because their friends were growing suspicious… and she liked having their time a secret, it made it more fun. Had she not mentioned how much she enjoyed those evenings James would have protested, but upon hearing her words he agreed without having second thoughts. Neither of the two were aware of it at the moment, but there wasn't much that they wouldn't agree to do for each other. They had kept up the once a week deal for a month, which mean they had met only four times and four times wasn't enough for James, he realized on a Thursday morning during an exceptionally boring Potions class.

It took him till the end of that same class to come up with a genius plan and an outstanding way to present his plan to Lily, who agreed to it although pretending to be reluctant about it.

…

"Oi, Evans," James barked across the hallway and her head snapped in his direction a bit too fast, "Head meeting. Now." It had been an exquisite, flawless plan built solely on the fact that they were Head Boy and Head Girl, and therefore had to have their Head meetings. And they had the meetings very often because they wanted to do their jobs properly, if doing one's job meant smoking cigarettes in the prefect's lavatory.

With a quick apology to her best friends Lily spun on her heel and walked towards him, making sure not to look too eager to join him in the meeting. They acted casual until rounding the corner after which they both shared a quick glance, grins spread on their faces as their pace quickened. Climbing up the two flights of stairs they reached the fourth floor rushing towards the Prefect's bathroom. James was faster to mumble out the password and they both stumbled inside, Lily locking the door behind them as James laughed.

"We're most likely the most industrious Head Girl and Boy this school has ever seen. Or at least they think we are," Lily joined in with her own laughter, reaching for the small purse while throwing herself on the sofa in the corner, "I don't know why we hadn't come up with this sooner, this is brilliant, James."

"Well," he landed next to her, smirking, "I _am_ brilliant."

"Sod off, James," Lily chuckled lighting her cigarette and tossing the lighter at him.

"Watch the face, Lily." He warned while conjuring up an ashtray and charming it to levitate near them.

She stared at him for a few seconds, reminding herself not to be too obvious (albeit failing at it), before leaning her head against his shoulder and reaching for her small purse, "I have a little something for us."

Putting an arm around her and pulling her closer to him, he smirked, "What's it?"

"Wait and see," the red haired girl replied leaving the lit cigarette in the ashtray and digging through her purse, "ah, there it is." And then she pulled out a bottle of what seemed to be _Ogden's Firewhiskey_. Not only was it _Ogden's Firewhiskey_, it was one of the oldest and most exquisite brands of _Ogden__'s_.

"No," he breathed a few inches away from her ear and almost missed the way she shivered because he was too occupied with observing the bottle, "How?"

"Let's just say Rosmerta owed me a favour and I thought that we deserved a bit of an encouragement at the beginning of our Head Boy and Head Girl careers."

"_Encouragement_?" He was stunned. "This is not encouragement, this is a—_a blackmail_. I will feel morally obligated to be the greatest Head Boy this bleeding school has ever seen if I even taste this!" He could feel Lily shake with silent chuckles as she reached for the bottle in his right hand.

"Would you relax, James?" Suddenly the bottle had been uncorked as she touched the tip of it with her wand.

"I'm relaxed."

"You're tense."

"Am not," he defended, then sucked in a breath when her hand landed on the front of his shirt, blatantly feeling his now tense abs.

"I'm sure you are."

"Sod off," he groaned but her hand remained in its new place, "you don't even know how much that costs."

Lily stared at the liquid in the bottle, holding it close to her face before smelling it. Then she brought the bottle to her lips and tipped it. Her face contorted when she swallowed the firewhiskey and felt the burn, her whole body shuddering at the taste. "I really don't care about the price," she beamed at him, wondering when exactly had it become completely usual for their faces to be mere inches away, "I got it for free." And then she tipped the bottle once again and shut her eyes as she gulped down more than she had a moment ago.

"Give me that," James grabbed the bottle from her hand and took a generous swig of the drink, "Merlin, this is amazing." Lily rolled her eyes at his thrilled face watching him as he continued drinking the firewhiskey slowly. She reclaimed the bottle after she had finished her cigarette and willed herself to drink as much as she could at once—which wasn't much at all—while James observed chuckling next to her.

Lily placed the slightly less full bottle on the floor before snuggling closer to him and carelessly playing with the fingers on his left hand, "Your hands are so big," she muttered flattening her palm against his in comparison, "look at this. My fingers barely reach to the first knuckle of your fingers."

"_Mhm_," he sighed, moving his fingers until they were positioned between the spaces between her fingers, "_you_ have _tiny_ hands, mine are normal sized." She opened her mouth to protest but found that the response had died on its way when he pushed his fingers completely in between hers, intertwining their hands. "You know, I have no idea what you did for Rosie—I mean, Rosmerta—but it must have been something absolutely genius for her to pay you with Ogden's sodding finest. You're a bloody brilliant bird, you know that, don't you?" His eyes met hers, both of them sporting equally dippy grins.

She nodded, marvelling at the unfamiliar feeling of his thumb brushing against the back of her hand, "You love me for being so bloody brilliant, though." A confident smile graced her lips as she looked up at him, noticing the strange look he was giving her. "What's wrong?"

"Thinking." He breathed as she shifted next to him.

"About?"

"Cigarettes?" He offered, quite positive that she wouldn't believe him. But even if she had failed in believing his latest statement it reminded her of the lovely white sticks she enjoyed mixing with alcohol and Lily started leaning over him to reach for her box of Players' which were placed on the wide armrest.

"What are you doing?" His hands landed on her hips, stopping her midway.

"Trying to reach my Players'?"

James chuckled, feeling her hair brush against his face, "Don't smoke, Lily. It's a nasty habit."

"I'm sure it is," she patted his chest, resting her hand there, "but I greatly enjoy mixing good firewhiskey with cigarettes."

Lily watched as the dark haired boy nodded, biting his lip as if deeply in thought. When he finally spoke up there was a certain glint in his eye, "I see where you're coming from, but," he paused removing his hand from her hip and reaching to tuck away a few red strands behind her ear, staring meaningfully, "I've been thinking of some other things that go perfectly well with quality firewhiskey."

"Oh," her eyes widened.

"Yes."

"Well," the hand resting on his chest inched higher, "I s'ppose it would be… _healthier_?"

"Mhm." Her hand had just travelled past his collar bone, and he cupped her cheek leaning closer to her, but it was Lily who closed the final distance between them, having the upper hand of being virtually on top of him. She brought their lips together, one hand tugging at the hair at the base of his neck as her other hand trailed up his chest. His hand was placed at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him, which she did—pressing her body against his. Unaware of how long they had been enjoying the kiss, although she had decided somewhere in the back of her mind that it hadn't been nearly long enough, Lily abruptly pulled away from James, their lips parting with a sound.

Her hand had just travelled past his collar bone, and he cupped her cheek leaning closer to her, but it was Lily who closed the final distance between them, having the upper hand of being on top of him. She brought their lips together, one hand tugging at the hair at the base of his neck as her other hand trailed up his chest. His hand was placed at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him, which she did eagerly—moved her body closer to his. The hand that had been innocently resting on her back inched under her shirt, meeting the bare skin on the small of her back. Lily shivered in response, unsure whether she should keep her hands where they were—happily tugging at his hair—or if it would feel better if she placed them somewhere else. Her dilemma had been, more or less solved once James pulled away from her and reattached his lips to her neck for a while, before deciding he prefered her mouth after all.

Although she had decided somewhere in the back of her mind they hadn't been kissing nearly long enough, Lily abruptly pulled away from James, their lips parting with a sound.

"What?"

"I'm going to quit smoking." She exclaimed.

"What?!"

"I'm quitting smoking," the grin on her face was radiant.

James, whose hands were resting on her hips once more, frowned, "Why?"

"Because," she hovered above him, leaning closer to his ear, "I think I may have found a better way to spend time during these long Head meetings." A smirk formed on her face as she stared at him, unconsciously biting her lower lip. She watched as the smirk on the boy's face spread into a smile and then formed into a completely devilish grin as he leaned forward capturing her lips again, forgetting about the cigarettes that had fallen to the ground—rolling all over the lavatory floor—and about the finest firewhiskey they had ever had.

There were things that were infinitely more pleasurable than cigarettes and firewhiskey.

* * *

_**A/N:** Uhm, here it is? Please tell me what you think. _


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